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The Therapy Sessions
Wednesday, December 01, 2004


It's a Dan-derful Life

Selected excerpts from the new CBS News Holiday Classic

The neighborhood of Black Rock Falls, somewhere in midtown New York. The streets are deserted, and snow is falling. It is Christmas Eve. Over the above scenes we hear voices praying:

JOHN ROBERT'S VOICE: I owe everything to Dan Rather. Help him, dear Father.

MIKE WALLACE’S VOICE: Help my son Dan tonight.

ROBIN'S VOICE: Please, God. Something's the matter with Daddy.

MARY MAPES’ VOICE: I love him, dear Gaia. Ommna hoptep chothulu.

Camera pans skyward. Voices speak from the clouds.

CLARENCE'S VOICE: You sent for me, sir?

FRANKLIN'S VOICE: Yes, Clarence. A man down on earth needs our help.

CLARENCE'S VOICE: Splendid! Is he sick?

FRANKLIN'S VOICE: No, worse. His Neilsens have tanked. At exactly seven o’clock PM tonight, Early Earth prime time, that man will be thinking seriously of throwing away God's greatest gift.

CLARENCE'S VOICE: Oh, dear, dear… not his anchor desk! Sir ... if I should accomplish this mission –– I mean –– might I perhaps win my wings? I've been waiting for over two hundred years now, sir, and people are beginning to talk.

FRANKLIN'S VOICE: Clarence, you do a good job with Dan Rather, and you'll get your wings.

CLARENCE'S VOICE: Oh, thank you, sir. Thank you!


In the office of Mr.Blogger, the meanest man in Black Rock Falls.

MR. BLOGGER: Oh, confound it, Rather, are you afraid of the truth? I'm offering you the chance to verify these National Guard documents, starting today. Is it a deal or isn't it?

DAN: Well, Mr. Blogger, I ... I ... I know I ought to jump at the chance, but I ... I just ... I wonder if I can verify them after Sixty Minutes II?

MR. BLOGGER: Okay Rather, but I will be fact-checking it.

DAN: No ... no ... no ... no, now wait a minute, here! I don't have to talk to anybody! I know right now, and the answer is no! NO! Doggone it! You sit around here and you spin your little weblogs and you think the whole world revolves around you and your pajamas and your ‘evidence.’ Well, it doesn't, Mr. Blogger! There is a deeper truth! In the . . . in the whole vast configuration of things, I'd say you were nothing but a scurvy little non-journalist spider!


Back in Mr.Blogger’s office.

MR. BLOGGER: I see. I've suddenly become quite important. What kind of evidence do you have, Dan? Have you got any eyewitnesses?

DAN (shaking his head): No.

MR. BLOGGER: Matched Selectic fonts? Originals? Collateral evidence of any kind?

DAN (pulls out policy): uhh... I have this fax from Kinkos.

POTTER (sarcastically): Look at you. You used to be so cocky! You were going to go out and conquer the news world! You once called me a warped, insignificant rumor mill. Well who’s the rumor mill now? A miserable little forger crawling in here on your hands and knees and begging for help. No evidence –– nothing but a miserable little fax… in Times New Roman, no less. Why don't you go to the network riff-raff you love so much and ask them to verify your story? You know why? Because they'd as soon kill you for a rating point . . .But I'll tell you what I'm going to do for you, Dan. I'm going to post the evidence right here on the blogosphere… forgery –– manipulation –– malfeasance . . .

Dan turns and runs toward the Brooklyn Bridge as Mr. Blogger logs on to TypePad...

Read the rest.

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